


lazy morning

by fluffysfics



Series: rewriting history [5]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Agent O - Freeform, Canon Divergent, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, chameleon arch shenanigans, cheesy flirting, i Swear this is all fluff, it’s to make up for last time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffysfics/pseuds/fluffysfics
Summary: Agent O wakes up for the first time in his new life. And he’s got a Doctor to take care of.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: rewriting history [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064198
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	lazy morning

O wakes up with a pounding headache and sweat pouring off of his limbs. 

He gasps, pressing his hands over his face. What- what even _was_ that?

His heart is thumping in his ears, and for a moment, something in the back of his mind expects two extra beats to fill in the gaps in the rhythm. But that instinct soon fades, and all he’s left with are the blurry remains of a nightmare. Fire, and ash, and blood- blood everywhere, in his hair and on his hands, staining everything he touches, even _now_ -

He shudders. He doesn’t remember ever having nightmares that intense before, not even when he’d first moved out to Australia, all alone. And those ones had been _bad_. He’d spent so many nights staying up late, texting the—

Oh. Oh no. _The Doctor_. 

The last thing O remembers before waking up was dozing off on top of her, after she’d told him everything she’d seen. His heart aches for her; she was so utterly distraught, so scared and confused. And he’d wanted to wake up next to her, hold her close for as long as he needed to. 

He jolts upright in bed. The necklace that the Doctor had given him slides down into his lap, and he frowns at it. It must have somehow come off whilst he was sleeping. O settles it back around his neck where it belongs, and then dashes out of bed and sprints off to find the Doctor. 

He swears he remembers the TARDIS always giving him the runaround when he tries to find something, but it takes him all of ten seconds to stumble across her bedroom. He’s in such a hurry that he forgets to knock, and bursts right in, a little out of breath. “Doctor? I’m sorry, I- I don’t know how I ended up back in my room. Did your ship move me? I don’t know.” 

She’s sitting up in bed, hugging a pillow to her chest, but a small smile breaks across her face when he enters. “Wondered where you’d wandered off to,” she says, sounding just a little bit more like her usual self. 

“Nowhere far,” O assures her, doggedly picking his way through the junk heaps until he makes it to her bed. “For you, never far. I promise.” 

“Oh,” the Doctor sighs, or possibly its _O_ , he can’t tell. And then she reaches up and pulls him down on top of her, quickly discarding the pillow and wrapping her arms tightly around him. It’s crushing, and it hurts. He wouldn’t dream of moving if he was offered the whole universe. He wouldn’t know what to _do_ with the universe. 

After a minute, she loosens her grip, and O pushes her to lie down properly, wriggling into a more comfortable position where he can rest his head on her shoulder. Two heartbeats drum away under his ear, a distinctive rhythm that pricks something in the back of his head. It’s easy to ignore, though, so he does, even though he doesn’t think he’s ever ignored a worrying thought in his _life_.

“You’re a lot heavier than my pillow,” the Doctor hums. 

“Um...thanks?”

“I mean it in a good way,” she says, threading her fingers through his hair. “It’s really nice to have someone lie on me. You, specifically. No one else. Like the pressure...” 

O decides not to query it any further. He’s ridiculously lucky, and he won’t push that. Of all the humans on his entire planet, the gorgeous, intelligent, dazzlingly brilliant alien lying underneath him chose _him_. He can’t possibly fathom why. But questioning his luck seems like a good way to make the Doctor realise that maybe he’s not that special after all, so perhaps he can be a little bit selfish and just enjoy her affections for a while. 

“O?”

“Yeah?” He lifts his head slightly. 

“D’you think the other me destroyed Gallifrey? Like- really? I know it’s not completely a stupid idea. I nearly did it before. Nearly. And then I didn’t, but- that’s a story for another day. Point is, I could’ve done. D’you think I did?” 

O blinks at her. Then, he shifts up, pressing a very gentle kiss to the Doctor’s lips. “I think you’re the most wonderful person I know,” he says softly. “And I think you’re brave, and selfless, and whatever you do, you always make the right decision in the end. I think that if the other you is you, and she destroyed Gallifrey, she must have had a bloody good reason.” 

The Doctor closes her eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. Then her hand moves to the back of his head, and she kisses him warmly. Passionately. O knows she isn’t very good at verbal affection, but he knows what this kiss means well enough. 

“Distract me,” she murmurs, gazing up at him with wide, pleading eyes. She’s still so soft from yesterday, O realises. So fragile. He wants to take care of her in every way that he can, wants to kiss the sadness from every line of her body. 

“I’ll do my best,” he promises, and the Doctor drags him down, down into another deep kiss that almost seems to set him alight. O wonders briefly if this is the healthiest way for the Doctor to deal with her problems, and then she presses her knee up between his legs, and he decides that that’s an ethical question for another day. 

——

An hour later, the Doctor is sprawled on his chest in nothing but her t-shirt and socks, looking considerably less worried than she had done earlier. One of her fingertips is idly tracing patterns over his chest, sweeping back and forth between his ribs and his collarbone. 

“You’re really good at that,” she mumbles. 

“Which part?” O can’t quite stifle a grin at being praised. He’s not used to it, for one thing, and there’s no one he admires and wants to impress more than the Doctor. 

“Uhm...” She drums her fingers over his heart as she thinks. “All of it. Yeah. Definitely. Thought you told me ages ago that you didn’t have much luck with girls. Or boys. Or anyone.” 

“I don’t,” O murmurs. “I had a boyfriend, when I was in university. But we drifted apart. Went our own ways, I guess. And then...I don’t know. A few casual things. Nothing serious. Hard to hold down a relationship when you’re a spy. Can’t tell ‘em anything about the job. And then...you came along. And it’s really hard to be interested in other people when you’re an option.” 

The Doctor looks inordinately pleased by that confession, and also like she knows she _shouldn’t_ be pleased by it. O wraps his arms around her, hugging her tight. 

“You never mentioned any boyfriend to me before,” she says after a minute, turning her head to gaze curiously up at him. “There a story there?” 

“Um.” O very distinctly remembers spending years with this boy, being _happy_. A face flashes into his mind- curly blond hair, excitable brown eyes. He can’t put a name to it, and for a second, he panics, until his brain conveniently supplies one. Oh. Okay. “Thomas, his name was Thomas. He was studying physics. Kinda bad at it, though. Had all these big ideas about what he wanted to do with his life, but he was really bad at just- knuckling down and getting to it. Think that’s why we drifted apart in the end. I was never the most important thing in his life anymore, there was always some bigger project...” 

The Doctor is gazing up at him, fascinated. She dips her head, gently pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “He sounds kind of like me,” she murmurs. “You got a type? ‘Cept- except, I appreciate you. A lot. An’ I always will. I promise. If I ever don’t, then don’t stand for it. Tell me I’m being awful to you. Okay?” 

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to say that,” O says, meaning it. “But I trust you to be nice to me. Of course I do. You always are.” 

“Don’t think I know anyone more deserving of it,” the Doctor murmurs, hiding her face as she speaks. She’s blushing, O can feel the heat on her cheeks. Absolutely terrible at verbal affection. He adores her. 

He thinks idly back to when he’d first met the Doctor, back in his little cubicle at MI6, and for some reason the memories stir up a deep, _violent_ anger in the pit of his stomach. The feeling passes only a moment later, and he’s left frowning, trying to work out what on Earth that had been about. 

The Doctor lifts her head and naturally, notices his expression immediately. “What’s up?” 

“It’s going to sound stupid,” O says right away, and she shakes her head so vehemently that her hair falls into her face. He laughs, smoothing it back, and then sighs. Okay. Clearly she wants to hear his problems, so he will share. He can trust her. 

“Just felt a bit weird since I woke up this morning,” he murmurs. “Funny dreams. Funny weird, not funny ha-ha. And then...odd emotions. Memory’s been a bit on the fritz. Probably just ‘cause I didn’t sleep well. Don’t want to worry you.” 

The Doctor lifts her head, gazing deeply into his eyes. O can feel something prickling in his mind, like he’s just brushed past an electric fence. She’s in his head, he realises. He does his best to think about how much he loves her, and a moment later, she blushes and the feeling fades. 

“Um. Your head’s, um- it’s normal. It’s all fine.” Still blushing, she stares at him a little longer. Then she slips out of bed, picking up his discarded clothes and rooting through the pockets. A couple of pounds in loose change and two pens are all she finds, and she visibly relaxes. 

“What was that about?” O sits up, pulling the blankets up to his chest. 

“Nothing. Nothing, just- just a stupid idea. Recent events got me all paranoid.” The Doctor shakes her head. “You don’t- you don’t have a pocket watch, do you? Probably gold. Weird circles on the front. Or something else open-able, something you’ve had for ages.” 

“What?” O laughs. “No. I don’t have anything like that. My parents aren’t exactly keen to hand over the family heirlooms to me, and I don’t think there’s a pocket watch in there anyway.” 

The Doctor nods silently, then slips back into bed, wrapping her arms tight around him. “Yeah. ‘Course not. Don’t worry. Like I said, stupid idea. You’re my- you’re human. You’re O.” 

“Certainly am human,” O agrees quietly, not having understood any of that in the slightest. What else would he be? 

The Doctor presses her head against his heart, seeming to take comfort in the steady beating. “We’re going to have to get up soon,” she murmurs. “The others might come looking for us. It’s breakfast time. And you’re not wearing any clothes.” 

“You’re only wearing half of yours,” O points out. 

“Plausible deniability. I might be getting dressed. _You’re_ clearly just naked in my bed.” The Doctor grins brightly, her weird tangent about pocket watches clearly forgotten. Or just suppressed. 

“I’m a spy, I can get dressed in less than thirty seconds. I could have my t-shirt and trousers on before you even got to the door.” 

The Doctor snorts. “Show off. I lo- um, I really like you, O. I _really_ do.” 

“I really like you too, Doctor,” he says gently, in the exact same inflection. He could say what those words really mean, but he doesn’t want to put pressure on her. He knows how she feels. O isn’t confident about many things in his life, but he is confident about that. 

The Doctor beams, and kisses him passionately. Then she lifts her head, gently poking him in the nose with her own nose. “There’s a species that lives on Pluto that kiss like that,” she mumbles, back to gazing into his eyes. It’s like she’s addicted to what she sees there. O is pretty sure it’s an absolutely _silly_ look of adoration. “We really should get breakfast.” She doesn’t exactly sound married to the idea. 

O hums his agreement, and then gently slides his hands up the Doctor’s back, before trailing his fingernails back down. She shivers, looking thoughtful for just a moment, and then she’s kissing him like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to do. 

Yesterday was long, and exhausting, and traumatic. Last night was weird for him and probably terrible for her. 

He thinks they deserve a lazy morning in bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is my apology for the angst of last time and also I Promise the rest of this series won’t be that dark!! I Have Plans! 
> 
> that said, it’s so amazing to see everyone’s responses to this series and I’m so glad everyone is enjoying this little universe so much, thank you all <3


End file.
